


Just a Quick One

by Eliza



Series: 21 Days in April [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Established Relationship, Frottage, M/M, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:42:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23252650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eliza/pseuds/Eliza
Summary: No matter where he lived, Otabek had always considered Almaty home. But he was starting to wonder if home might not be a place.
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky
Series: 21 Days in April [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455901
Comments: 6
Kudos: 46





	Just a Quick One

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [По-быстрому](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26086693) by [fandom Kumys 2020 (fandom_Kumys_2018)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Kumys_2018/pseuds/fandom%20Kumys%202020), [Menada_Vox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menada_Vox/pseuds/Menada_Vox), [Shae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shae/pseuds/Shae)



> Many 💖 to [Rana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ranalore/pseuds/Rana%20Eros) and [Boni](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonibaru) for sticking with me through this long slog and for their exceptional beta services.

“I’m not saying we _have_ to move,” Otabek said, as he paced the length of Victor’s living room again, “but I’d like you to think about it. If not for the simple reason that travel from Almaty to anywhere is a pain in the ass. At least from Helsinki or Prague or Kiev, I wouldn’t feel like I have to go halfway around the world just to get a connecting flight.” Otabek listened to the quality of the silence on the other end of the call and wished he’d thought to Skype this one. His coach was very good at listening to new ideas and reasonable arguments, which was why they got along so well, but sometimes it helped to know which way to push.

Otabek heard a long sigh before his coach said, “The problem I’m having is that I’m so very tempted to say yes right away. An answer that comes that quickly makes me nervous.”

He stopped pacing and fist pumped for all the right decisions he’d made today. “Think about it. I’ve put out some feelers to a few connections. How about we talk again next week to see where things sit?”

“That sounds good. Although I noticed you’re focused on Europe as a destination. Lauren’s going to be disappointed that Canada wasn’t at least on the list.” Otabek could hear his coach’s smirk in that last sentence, but was also relieved that he wouldn’t have to shoot down any suggestions which would take him even farther from Yuri. 

His coach continued in a more professional tone, “How’s Saint Petersburg? Are you staying off the ice?”

“Yuri pouted when I sent him off on his own this morning. I might give in and go with him next week.”

“If you do, keep it light. You worked hard last season, your body needs the break. Go for a run; go to the gym; try to do something else for these weeks.”

“Yes, Coach,” Otabek said, grinning, and then ended the call.

He collapsed onto the sofa. Of all the calls he'd made today, that was the one that mattered most, and he didn't get an immediate no. He already had a line on a place to stay in Helsinki and an invitation to add a few days to the end of his holiday to check it out. Although he’d given his coach options, any other city would be just as bad as Almaty with almost a full day gone on a plane and in the airport. Helsinki was under 2 hours by train to Saint Petersburg on a regular schedule. He wanted to wait until his coach was closer to yes before paying to change his plane ticket but he had all the new travel plans lined up. 

The sound of the door’s electronic lock releasing would have put a smile on his face if he wasn't still grinning. Yuri came in loaded down with bags of take out. "Isn't that right where I left you this morning?" Yuri said, sounding grumpy but wearing a sly smirk. 

Otabek was about to comment on the fact he had clothes on now, but spotted Mila over Yuri's shoulder. "This sofa is very comfortable," Otabek said, getting to his feet, and the save was enough to make Yuri crack a grin. "Mila! What a lovely surprise."

"So he _didn't_ text you," she said, turning his offered handshake into cheek kisses. "I hope you come up with some creative punishment." 

"That was probably the plan," he stage-whispered, knowing Yuri was listening. As Mila laughed, he thought of the perfect one. "Have you found his hickey yet?"

"No!" Mila said, delighted. 

"Goddamnit!" Yuri came out of the kitchen, brandishing a serving spoon. "You are not stripping me down enough to find that one, baba." 

Mila looked to Otabek for confirmation; he just raised his eyebrows and grinned. "That's all I need to know, Yurushka," she said sweetly. 

Yuri narrowed his eyes at Otabek. "Traitor." 

"Have to raise my points with the in-laws," Otabek said, ushering Mila to a seat at the dining room table.

“The gold medal did that,” Yuri called from the kitchen. 

“I was only fourth at Worlds,” Otabek yelled back. 

Mila smiled up at him as he pushed in her chair. “The Four Continents is nothing to scoff at. You beat Katsuki this year.”

"And JJ," Yuri added, coming in with a couple of sodas. He paused, rolling his eyes, before he handed one to Mila. 

Otabek could see this was one of those days when Yuri was enjoying being cranky and decided to add to their running joke. "But I like—"

Yuri turned on his heel, catching his momentum with a hand on the kitchen doorway. "If you say you like JJ, I will punch you, Altin. Sohelpmegod!"

Otabek held up his hands in surrender and took a seat. Mila rolled her eyes at him. "I didn't think I'd see Otabek Altin so whipped by such a chibi."

"Chibi? Have you seen his shoulders lately? My agent is working on a couple of photo shoots in May; I need to stay pretty.”

"Naked photo shoots?" 

Mila glanced over to the kitchen as she spoke so it was no surprise when Yuri said from just behind him, "Then he wouldn't need his face pretty." Yuri leered as he set some bite-sized pirozhki on the table, but the look turned to a glare in a blink as he focused on Mila again. "Why are you still here?"

"You promised me dinner. And I promised Yuuri I'd check in to make sure the place hadn't become a health hazard." She leaned in close to Otabek, putting on her own stage whisper, "I've seen his room." 

Otabek had actually expected Lilia to be the one to do the spot inspections, so he'd been keeping things reasonably clean and absolutely embarrassment-free while Yuri was at practice. "Would you like a tour?" 

Mila put on a pretty pout. "The fact that you're offering guarantees my disappointment." 

"Stop the flirting. Don't you have your own boyfriend, baba?" Yuri called from the kitchen.

"I like yours better. Did you even turn the oven on? The shashlyk only needs to be warmed up and I don’t smell anything." 

The bickering continued all through dinner, but Otabek had siblings, so it was easy and familiar. Otabek had always liked Yuri's sharp tongue and he could see how it had been honed as Mila took all of his barbs with ease, although the ones she shot back weren't usually as sharp. Big sisters tended to save their strength for special occasions; he had personal experience.

As Otabek walked Mila to the door after dinner, she put her hand on his arm. "It's good you're here. This year has been...," she looked back toward the kitchen, "difficult. You're likely the reason he's got through it as well as he has." 

"I've seen the bruises, Mila." 

"We've all had our share," she said defensively, but then became rueful. "He's Yuri. He has his moments. But for the most part he has stuck to the plan even when it meant missing a shot at the podium at big events." 

Otabek nodded. He'd listened to Yuri describe in detail how "fucking stupid" Yakov was being, but those days were better than the quiet ones. "He'll be ready for next year." 

"Unless he keeps growing." Mila leaned in and whispered, "He's taller than you." 

"No!" He put on the shock, but he actually hadn't noticed. 

She grinned while holding her thumb and pointer finger close together, then said good night. 

"I didn't think you'd mind, my asking her to stay," Yuri said as Otabek came back into the kitchen. There wasn't much to clean up, so as Yuri rinsed out the take-out containers, Otabek loaded the dishwasher. 

"That was fun. We should go out more." 

"The way you avoid other skaters at competitions, I keep forgetting you're a social butterfly.” Otabek snorted at the description, and Yuri flashed him a grin before continuing with a shrug, “I don't usually go anywhere except for the dance studio, rink, and school. At least before this year." 

"I started to go out when I was in the U.S. because it was better than sitting in my dorm room alone." Otabek came up behind Yuri and wrapped his arms around him. "I'm not alone here." 

Yuri leaned back against Otabek’s chest as he dried his hands, and Otabek pressed his lips against the top of Yuri’s shoulder before resting his chin on it. “I thought about what you asked,” Otabek said. “The morning I gave you the hickey.”

“Is that what you were doing on the sofa all day?" Yuri said, tipping his head back so Otabek could see his smug grin, but his voice had gone rough.

Otabek didn't want to tell Yuri about what he had been doing all day, not until he had a better idea of where it was heading, but he could talk about this. “I didn’t bring…what I usually use. Although that would have made customs interesting." Yuri snorted a laugh. "But there are other options.”

“Yeah?” 

Otabek picked up Yuri’s hand and slid the first two fingers into his mouth. He could feel the instant Yuri realized what he wanted by the way Yuri’s hand tensed and the increased pressure of Yuri’s back against his chest. He nipped at Yuri’s fingertips as he pulled away then found he missed the contact and so pressed the side of his face against Yuri’s hair, his lips at the edge of Yuri’s ear as he said, “I'll come to the rink with you tomorrow, if you like. Mila said that Saturdays are usually more relaxed for the seniors. But we'll make sure not to bring anyone home with us, yes?”

"Fuck, yeah," Yuri breathed, straightening his stance as he turned in Otabek's arms. Otabek realized their eyes were at the same level; Mila was probably right. His gaze quickly dropped to Yuri's mouth, its usual target, which is probably why he hadn't noticed sooner. "You gonna kiss me sometime today, Altin?" Yuri asked, sliding the elastic from his ponytail.

That would usually require some kind of smart-ass comeback but fuck it. Otabek kissed him with everything he had. Yuri made a surprised sound but wrapped his arms around Otabek's shoulders, hands cradling his head, and kissed him back, just as open. It was hitting Otabek hard, how much Yuri meant to him, how much he was loving this hint of what life together could be like. Seeing Yuri every day, holding him every day, tasting him….

They weren't going to make it out of the kitchen. 

He slid his fingers under the elastic at Yuri’s waist. "Can I—"

"Yes. Anything," Yuri cut him off. "Everything. Just don't stop touching me. Don't ever—" He cut himself off pulling Otabek into another kiss. Ever. Always. They didn't make promises or demands with those words. Not serious ones. And everything was feeling very serious, right here, right now. 

He slid his hands into Yuri's underwear, enjoying the feel of Yuri's ass under his hands as he worked Yuri's clothes off of his hips, more carefully over his dick. Yuri got so hard, so fast, and yes, being 17 had something to do with it, but Otabek liked to think he might have a little influence as well. 

"Can I take this to mean you want me, then?" Otabek had meant it to be a tease, a straight line for one of Yuri's biting comebacks to help shift the mood, but the vulnerable look on Yuri's face shook him. He kissed Yuri instead of making him struggle to find a reply, then continued the kisses down his neck to the collar of his t-shirt. Otabek dropped a kiss on the shirt over Yuri's heart, because he actually was as much of a sap as Yuri always accused him of being, but had the tee pushed up over Yuri's ribs by the time he settled onto his knees. 

Yuri wasn't as sensitive over his abs as Otabek was, but Otabek liked a warm-up of running his mouth over Yuri's skin. He also wanted to get at the hickey. It was starting to fade and that couldn't happen; he didn’t want to overwrite it though, so he set his mouth a little closer toward Yuri's centerline this time. With the first scrape of teeth, Yuri fell back against the counter, biting off a sharp cry, and Otabek raised his gaze enough to catch sight of Yuri's white knuckles as he gripped the counter edge. Otabek held onto him, hands firm on his thighs slowly moving to cup his ass. Yuri let some of his weight rest into the grip, muttering a string of curses the whole time, and when Otabak moved back to admire his handiwork, he saw that Yuri had his head back and his chest was heaving. 

Otabek hooked one of the kitchen chairs with his foot, pulling it within reach as he said, "Sit." 

Yuri didn't pause, which was telling in itself, just sat his ass on the edge of the seat and leaned back. That was a sight. Long legs and hard cock, tousled hair and red lips—the definition of debauched. It must have shown on his face because Yuri smirked and said, "Wanna take a picture?" Fuck, his voice went right along with it. 

"My phone would burst into flames," Otabek said, levering himself up to kiss Yuri even as Yuri laughed. There was no way Otabek would record moments like this, no way he would risk having to share moments like this with anyone. He had a good memory and had his own album of mental pictures, usually of Yuri in motion, but this week had added significantly to this particular collection. 

He slid Yuri's pants off one leg as he settled back between Yuri's knees, leaving all of the cloth hooked around a single ankle. He knew Yuri was slouching the way he was because he wanted Otabek's hands on his thighs, so Otabek ran his hands along the backs, from the crease of Yuri’s knee to the edge of the chair as he slid Yuri's cock into his mouth. 

"Fuck! I can't…." Yuri huffed a frustrated sigh. "This isn't going to last long." 

"I'm right there with you," Otabek pulled off just enough to tell him, gripping Yuri's legs in an effort to keep his hands off of his own cock. 

"I didn't need to know that," Yuri groaned, arching against the back of the chair. He slid his fingers into Otabek's hair, not gripping but stroking in time with the rock of his hips and Otabek's strokes. "Although I can't believe you could want me as much as I want you." 

Yuri sounded raw. Like something had split and the words were pouring out. Otabek was torn between wanting to find out everything Yuri had been keeping close, and wanting to shelter him and hold him tight. Otabek shifted a hand over Yuri's hip to the small of his back, holding him between that press and the protection of Otabek's mouth. 

Yuri’s fingers tightened in his hair. "God, yes! I love your hands on me. Sometimes it feels like I'm half-asleep until you touch me."

Otabek felt like he was holding a live wire. All of the feelings from Yuri, about Yuri were zinging under his skin, and he needed to get his cock out of his pants before he strained something. He pulled off of Yuri’s cock, resting his head against Yuri's thigh while he ripped open his pants and scooped himself out of his underwear. 

"Fuck," Yuri snarled between gritted teeth. Otabek felt hands on his shoulders, pushing him back, and he only just managed to get his legs unfolded before Yuri straddled them. Yuri slid their dicks together with a devastating roll of his hips, and Otabek dug his fingertips into those powerful muscles, desperate to make this last just a few moments more. Yuri swore again and panted, “You’re so hot. I can't…." 

"Please, Yuri!" Otabek begged. He had no idea what he was asking for, but it didn't matter because Yuri gave it to him anyway. A kiss, a harsh gasp, one more powerful surge against his cock before Yuri coated it with his own release, and Otabek gave up trying to fight the inevitable. 

As the overwhelming sensations in his own body subsided, the feeling of Yuri pressed against him and everything Otabek felt for him flooded back in. He needed to say it. "I love you." God, did he just fuck this up? "Okay?" 

The nuzzling Yuri had been doing against Otabek’s temple stilled, and the breath which had been puffing against his cheek paused. "Okay," Yuri said, quietly, not seeming mad, more like he was thinking. Then he raised his head to meet Otabek’s gaze, confidence in his voice and in his clear, green eyes. "Okay." 

"Okay," Otabek said on the edge of a sigh. He didn’t mind that Yuri couldn’t say it back, not when Yuri dropped down and snuggled hard against his chest before relaxing in the boneless sprawl that Otabek knew was his unique privilege to experience. However, what was not okay was Yuri falling asleep on him on the tiled kitchen floor. Otabek slid his hands up Yuri’s back, giving the ends of Yuri’s hair a little tug even as he kissed the top of Yuri's head. 

Yuri grunted in acknowledgement and said against Otabek's t-shirt, "Yuuri would be horrified that we fucked in his kitchen.” 

Otabek couldn't disagree. "Better the floor than the counters. Are you planning on telling him?" 

"No!" Yuri said, raising his head and looking like he thought Otabek had lost his mind. Otabek felt like he had. A little bit. Something certainly seemed to have changed in the past week. He didn’t bother to restrain his growing grin, and Yuri narrowed his eyes for a moment before returning the smile. “Should I?” 

“Only if you want Victor to know, too,” Otabek said with a shrug while trying not to laugh. 

“What a way to kill the mood,” Yuri whined as he pushed himself to his knees, but Otabek could still see the amusement in his eyes. Otabek followed him, reaching for a kiss, but Yuri pushed him back with a hand on his face. “There’s going to have to be a three day mourning period because even Otabek Altin’s miraculous mouth won’t be able to resurrect it.” 

“Are we going to have to pour out some vodka for it?” Otabek relaxed back onto the floor, eyeing Yuri’s gorgeous ass peeking out under the edge of his t-shirt as he escaped from the clothes wrapped around his ankle. 

“Pour out some vodka? You’re becoming more Russian by the day.” 

Otabek swiped at him, but Yuri only laughed as he scrambled out of the room. It was better than okay. Yuri's obvious happiness was as good as I love you.


End file.
